


From the Jaws of the Beast

by GrizzlyRenegade



Series: To Defend and Guide [1]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: Anger, Covert Operation, Escape, Fantastic Racism, Fantasy, Female Protagonist, Good versus Evil, Origin Story, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Paladins, Refugees, Rescue, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Smuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22338367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrizzlyRenegade/pseuds/GrizzlyRenegade
Summary: In the land of Ursaron, many nations live alongside each other in tentative peace. This rough peace is maintained by the Shepherds, paladins devoted to diplomatic missions, monster hunting, mercy missions, and aiding refugees. Our story follows Seraph, a woman aiding in a mission of mercy in the Abican Empire and her struggle to free people from its oppressive regime.
Series: To Defend and Guide [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607980





	From the Jaws of the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a series of five short stories where Seraph will struggle to find a solution to the dangers and prejudices of her world. This is part of my own ongoing journey to develop as a writer and I plan to write more original works as I go. For now, I hope you enjoy the first work I've felt was good enough to post.

Seraph hated this place and couldn’t wait to be gone. On the surface, Suncrest was a beautiful city. It was made from the same limestone as the mountain it grew from which gave a pristine and cultured look to the city. Fountains and sculptures were also commonplace making this one of the most stunning places the Shepherd had ever been to. But she already knew that underneath all that clean, polished stone was a festering rot that she wished she could cleave at with her sword. She walked through the street, nodding to the citizens who acknowledged her. As much as she hated Abica, she had a duty to protect all peoples, even if their emperor was a fear mongering racist who was consumed by a lust for power.

Her light blue surcoat, emblazoned with a white stallion put the common folk at ease. Shepherds could be trusted not to cause trouble and even deter it. The guards, however, did not feel that same ease. In Abica, Shepherds had a reputation for getting in the way and proselytizing about the treatment of foreigners. They weren’t going to stand in her way though. A bastard sword on her hip and heater shield on her back discouraged interference. She continued her walk back to the Laughing Maiden Inn, determined to ignore the eyes on her.

She entered the inn and was greeted warmly by the barmaid, Aubrey, who had been waiting on her group since they arrived a week ago. 

“Hello Miss Seraph, are you hungry or thirsty? Did you get your business taken care of?” 

The paladin reluctantly smiled and responded, “No, thank you Aubrey, I’m fine. I’m just looking for Patrick and Mavin. Are they here?” 

The cheerfully plump woman replied quickly, “I’m sorry miss, I’m not sure, it’s been a busy day ya know. Are you sure you aren’t hungry? I’m sure we can find something that would agree with your special palate?” 

Seraph didn’t let her frustration and annoyance get the best of her. Aubrey was just being a gracious host and didn’t deserve her current feelings of anger. Honestly Aubrey had been one of the best parts of this trip so far.

“Nephelim eat the same things humans do, Aubrey. I’m just not hungry now, but maybe later?” 

The woman’s worried look came down into an excited smile. “Oh good. You just let me know and I’ll have Bart whip something up for you and your friends.”

Seraph nodded and headed for the stairs to their room. Upon reaching the door, she gave two sharp knocks followed by one long before entering. Patrick was waiting on his bed, still in the same armor as her. He started leaning back to his previous resting position as she came in and sat on the bed opposite to him. 

“How was your day?” Patrick asked condescendingly. 

Rolling her eyes at her fellow paladin she let her frustrations bubble over, “Just another great day of being a fucking spectacle for these stonechuckers. Even the rabble just like to stare their eyes out at me and the guards keep waiting for me to walk in an alley so they can knife me!”

Patrick had heard this rant everyday for the past week and just gave her a dry chuckle. “I think they more into burnings than stonings these days.Well what do you think was the culprit today? The shirt, the tits or the hair and eyes?” 

She frowned at him and wished he was within arms reach. “Today it seemed to be the shirt.” 

She paused before considering whether the other options could have been factors today. The Abican Empire let women learn magic but only as healers or supporting agents to the army. The thought of a female paladin was taboo here but they weren’t going to start an incident over it. Nephelim were even more exotic. The silver, pupiless eyes and white hair outed her in a moment, but at least she wasn’t feared for it.

“I’m just one giant walking insult here. Why was I picked for this mission if I was going to be such a target?” “Because if they are focused on you and I then they won’t be watching Mavin doing what we came her for.” Seraph scrunched her nose and leaned back, resting her head on the wooden wall.

Before she had a chance to relax, her hand flew to her side when the door handle clicked. She let it fall when Mavin’s curly, dirty-blonde hair appeared through the door. 

“I’ve secured everything we need. We can head out tomorrow morning at first light.” 

Unlike her colleagues, the halfling was dressed in ordinary clothes with only a dagger on her belt. 

Seraph snorted in derision. “Why don’t we leave tonight? Fewer people on the street to get suspicious or to fight if things go south.”

Both Patrick and Mavin looked at her with tired expressions. Mavin took it upon herself to respond. “It would be a lot more suspicious if a merchant and a pair of Shepherds tried to leave the city as night was falling. Especially when the only reason we came here was to buy supplies for struggling towns in the borderlands. They would want to search everything on our cart.” 

Patrick followed up with, “Is this because you want to get your hands dirty?” 

She gave him a glare, “No. I just don’t like waiting for something to go wrong and having to react. I’d rather just…” 

“Burn the city to the ground and dance on the ashes?” 

She turned her gaze to Mavin, trying to melt her with sheer willpower. The silence hung in the air for a moment before all three gave in and laughed. Mavin put her small hand on Seraph’s knee. 

“I keep asking you to come on these mission in case things go south. That look in your eye may be enough to get them to run for their lives.” 

“And it would be the smartest decision of their lives,” chimed Patrick again.

Seraph's lips formed a pout and she shrugged, placated by their kind words. “How many do we have this time?” 

Mavin answered, “At least nine casks of mead, maybe more if my friend at the brewery can line it up. I just hope the city guard doesn’t try and help themselves to it.” 

After a moment of silence hung in the air, Patrick slapped his thighs and got up off the bed, stretched and spoke. “Well, since we have the night, I’m going to eat. Care to join me ladies?” 

Mavin placed a hand on her chest and let her jaw drop slightly. “Such a gentleman. How lucky are we to have such brave man here to defend us, Seraph.” 

The paladin stood up, leaving her sword and shield behind, and punched him in the shoulder, “In your dreams, shortsword!” They laughed together and went down stairs.

The next morning, Seraph yawned and twisted in her seat on the cart. She looked back at the cart then over to Mavin in the driver’s seat. “Do you think we have enough room?” 

Mavin let smile break her still facade as she sat stiffly in the driver’s seat. They rolled the repurposed, dwarven minecart up the street. Four draft horses pulled the massive cart through the street parting the early morning crowds around it. In the back, furs covered the bags and barrels of supplies destined for the frontier. All they had to do was get out of the gates.

There was a steady stream of traffic coming in from the gates. This city was a major trade hub after all, but traffic out of the city had been halted by their cart. Wagons lined up behind them waiting to be inspected but the guard was busy looking over the massive manifest that Mavin had handed them. Mavin took perverse pleasure in trapping guards in their own bureaucratic rhetoric. 

“Is there a problem sir?” She asked politely. Only people familiar with her such as Seraph and Patrick would recognize the slight hint of satisfaction in her question. 

“We have all the proper permits and licenses. You are, of course, welcome to inspect the cart.” She looked over her shoulder to the growing line of merchants and caravans who were growing more and more restless.

“Get that cart out of the way!” one of them shouted, “I have to make it to Graytrail by nightfall!” 

The guardsman ruffled through the paperwork and looked back and forth to his fellows looking for some guidance on what to do. Getting nothing but indifference from them, his gaze returned to Mavin.

“Well normally, we would perform a thorough inspection, but considering the humanitarian nature of your mission and the reputation of the Shepherds, we will let you by this time. Stay safe on the roads.”

“Thank you sir, the gods bless your day.”

The man saluted and waved them through. The horses began pulling the bulky cart through, pinching the incoming traffic down to a trickle as they passed. The cart moved comparatively fast compared to its standard cousins. Furs and supplies were much lighter than boulders of ore after all.

They travelled for most of the day before Patrick turned around in his seat and lifted up a section of furs, revealing a bald, blue head.

“How are you doing in there Kyr?”

“It’s hot down here but I think we can make it. How much farther until the safe house?”

Patrick looked over to Mavin for an answer. She looked over to him and replied to Kyr.  
“Should be there before nightfall. Hang in there and have Tumult message us if something happens.”

Seraph slouched in her seat and decided to pass the time by sharpening her sword. The dull scrape of stone on metal broke the monotony of the cart, horses, and chirping and chittering of the hidden wildlife around them. She sighed in boredom. Patrick, who had been dozing in his seat, looked over to her and smiled.

“Things going too smoothly for your taste?” 

She sneered at the man’s smug grin. This mission had been one of mercy as they claimed but with a slightly different goal than buying supplies for struggling townsfolk. Abica had long persecuted races that didn’t fall into their standards of acceptable. Humans, elves, dwarves, gnomes, and halflings were all welcome within their borders, but more exotic races were treated with suspicion and outright hostility in some cases. As such, the Shepherd’s Circle of Arch-Paladins approved missions to smuggle these victims out. Seraph had accepted Mavin’s offer to join her and Patrick on several of these missions over the last few years. Mostly because she looked forward to any chance to stick it to the Abicans. 

“It’s just, the more we do these missions, the easier they get. We haven’t had to take out an Abican guard in almost 6 months.”

Mavin looked at her incredulously. “That means we are getting better at this job and putting fewer people at risk. We are doing good work Seraph. Saving lives? Isn’t that the whole point? Or do you just come along to bloody your sword?”

The Nephilim scoffed at that. Yes she had originally joined in hopes of scrapping with the enemy, but something else had begun to gnaw at her over the last few months. 

“Yes we are saving a few lives each time we do this, but are we actually making a difference?”

“Of course we are.” Patrick replied from the other side of Mavin.

“We are making a difference to these few people each time, yes? But we aren’t doing any real damage to Abica unless we clash with their soldiers. And we are only taking these people out of the hostile city and dumping them out onto the hostile borderlands. Yes, we give them a better chance at life, but can’t we do more?”

Mavin mirrored Patrick’s smirk and spoke. “What do you want us to do? We can’t go to war with Abica or force Emperor Wymarc to change his policies.” Her smile faded, “This is the best we can do for people right now.”

Seraph saw no point in continuing the conversation. They weren’t wrong about war with Abica. That was a roundabout way to commit suicide. But she also knew that whatever good they were doing wasn’t enough. 

Her thought process was interrupted by the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Both she and Patrick sat up in their seats, ready for action. Mavin did the opposite, slouching and relaxing. From an upcoming bend in the road, five soldiers wearing Abican uniforms appeared. It was hard not to notice the yellow surcoats with the gold tower emblazoned on blue and yellow stripes against the green of the woods. The five of them spread out in a line to block the cart’s path.

“Hail sir and good morning to you! What can we do for you this fine day?”

The captain in the center of the group tried to loom above Mavin, the cart’s height forced him to look her in the eye. “Who are you and where are you going?”

“We left Suncrest this morning with supplies bound for the border town of Windrush. These supplies are to help them recover from a recent bandit attack and hard weather. My name is Melody Loamfoot and these are my employers and protectors, the Shepherds, Seraph Goldspirit and Patrick O’Rourke.

The two paladins nodded at the captain who just looked them up and down. He spoke again.

“Only two escorts for a journey out on the frontier? Seems foolish to risk all these supplies with very little protection?” 

Mavin smiled back at him, “They are Shepherds after all. Very capable warriors. And I don’t have the budget to invest in more security. I was told that these two were more than capable of helping me reach my destination without incident.”

Seraph had to admire Mavin’s charm. That wasn’t a total lie. Two paladins, technically three, could handle most common threats faced by travelers. In truth, few operatives meant fewer moving pieces that could screw up the plan. Still, she was glad she already had her sword out. Otherwise she would have been gripping it fiercely, ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble.

“Were you inspected upon exiting Suncrest?”

Mavin, ever the prepared one, already had her leather pouch out, ready to hand off her paperwork.

“Yes we were. Here are the papers and documentation. Feel free to look them over.”

The captain held up his hand and gestured for his men to move forward and encircle the cart. Seraph’s eyes followed them, struggling to keep the menace out of them.

“That won’t be necessary. We will be doing an impromptu inspection now. For the security of the Empire.”

Mavin continued to smile but was visibly more distressed. “I must protest sir. I have to make it to Windrush by nightfall and we have already been delayed by the first inspection. This is a violation of the Trade Guild’s agreement with Abica.”

Her protests and pleas fell on deaf ears as two riders, now at the back of the cart, dismounted and began to undo the straps holding down their cargo. Seraph didn’t wait for their true goal to be discovered. She leapt from her seat on the cart and tackled the rider to her right, throwing them both off the horse and to the ground. There was a “wuff” of air when they landed, most likely the breath of her victim being forced out of his chest. She rolled to the left immediately after landing and got to her feet. The Abican was slowly trying to draw himself up and recover but he never got the chance. Seraph thrust her sword through his heart and then slapped his horse on the rump, sending it charging off. 

Taking a moment to place her shield on her arm, she was graced by the image of the captain clutching at a crossbow bolt that Mavin had shot into his chest. Patrick was still standing on the cart, dueling the last rider with his mace. Letting out an exhale she ran to the back of the cart where the two dismounted soldiers were arguing. When she popped around the corner, the one closest to her tried to level his spear at her but she was already inside his reach and with a swing of her sword, his head thumped to the ground. The second soldier was throwing his arm back, warhammer in hand when her shield smashed into his face, sending him spinning. She showed him no mercy and ran him through before he could recover.

Still ready for action she peered around the corner, disappointed as the last Abican soldier fell from his saddle dead, head caved in by Patrick’s mace. Her fellow paladin looked around and saw no other enemies.

“Do you think you had enough fun? You certainly didn’t leave any for the rest of us.”  
“Maybe if you were a better fighter, you’d get more action. Any injuries?”

Patrick shook his head and looked over to Mavin who was holding her crossbow, eyes closed. She opened them and turned to her companions.

“Just had to let Tumult know what happened. Seraph, collect their weapons and gear, throw it in with the rest of the supplies. Patrick gather the horses and tie them to the back of the wagon then help Seraph dispose of the bodies.”

Patrick looked at her with false indignation. “Who put you in charge? I thought we were all equal here?”

She slapped his arm with the empty crossbow. “I have to stay with the cart. Now hurry up, we don’t want to risk running into another patrol while disposing of this one, no matter how happy that would make some people.”

Seraph pouted at the good natured jab, already stripping the soldier Patrick had dispatched. Patrick also hopped down and set about his task. Within twenty minutes they were pulling the bodies a few yards off the road, into the brush. The wildlife would take care of the rest. Even if they were found, it would be long after they were gone. With the grisly task completed, the two paladins mounted up on the cart, and the group proceeded on their way to Windrush.

An hour before sunset, they pulled the cart into Windrush, a town outside the jurisdiction of any state, still trying to blossom on the frontier. The cart was parked in the courtyard of a Rysulla mission. As they stopped, the clergy folk came out to help them unload. Under the furs and in a few barrels, people started to emerge, stretching sore muscles, unmoved for the better part of the day. One, two then thirteen souls had been smuggled out of Abica by Seraph and her team.A golden haired, elvish man wearing vestments with a torch over crossed flags embroidered on them approached the three of them. Patrick stepped forward to shake his hand.

“Greetings, Thallan. Thank you for receiving us and giving shelter to these people.”

Thallan responded in a soft, warm voice. “Of course, my friends. You know that this is Rysulla’s wish that we turn hostile lands into places where civilized folk can prosper. Your charges can help us accomplish that goal and have a measure of peace living free from Wymarc’s tyranny. How many have you brought me today?”

Mavin chimed in at this point, pulling out another piece of paperwork. “Thirteen sir. One Jotunkin, a pair of Waldreise, seven dragon folk, 4 of them Wyrmaghe, the others Taraks. One Cambion and pair of shadow elves completes the group.” After she finished speaking, she handed him the papers with their names and occupations on it. “This can help you determine where they can fit into the community.”

Thallan was a little overwhelmed by Mavin’s attention to detail but he graciously accepted her offered stack of paper. He turned to look out over the group of new additions to his community. Some were giant, others diminutive. Some were scaled or had horn, but all seemed weary.

“Thank you for giving them another chance, Shepherds. If they don’t thank you, I will. For your trouble.” He said offering them a pouch of gold.

Seraph shook her head. “No thank you. Use it to get them started. We will be just fine.”

Thallan bowed to them then went to address the group. As he left, the paladins took the Abican uniforms they had stripped from the patrol and threw them into the fire, disposing of the evidence of their crimes. Afterward, two of the refugees approached their rescuers. Seraph recognized them as Kyr, a towering eight foot tall Jotunkin, and Tumult, the grey-skinned Cambion.

“I honor you for getting us out of there. We know the risks you took were by no means small but your bravery has granted us sanctuary in this new land.” Tumult placed a hand on his chest and continued to speak, bowing his head graciously. “I do not think I would have survived much longer. It was probably a matter of time before another lynch mob ended my life as they did my family’s.”

Seraph bristled at that. She uncrossed her arms and looked directly into Tumult’s eyes. His ash-grey skin and downward pointing horns coming from his temples made his face seem even more sorrowful. His flowing shirt, pants and sash fluttered in the wind as he stood still and stricken.

“Did you say you’re family was lynched? Who did it? The guards?”

Tumult looked visibly uncomfortable, but he still replied. “No. It was the commoners. But the guards did nothing to stop them. In fact, they helped whip the crowd into more of a frenzy when they were burned in the square.” 

He broke eye contact and hung his head. Kyr’s dark blue arm came down and rested on his companion’s shoulder. Seraph looked around the circle and saw sorrow and pain on the faces of both her companions and her charges. She stormed off to find Thallan. The elf was inside the mission, setting up bunks for the new additions, when the paladin put her hand on his shoulder and asked for a private audience.

In his office she finally voiced what had been in her mind. “Sir, how many refugees do you think Windrush could handle? I mean at once.”

Thallan looked visibly confused. “Well honestly, life is very hard out here on the frontier. We don’t have as many established farm lands as the kingdoms, nor the supply lines to support rapid growth. We can’t handle more than a few dozen every year. We just don’t have the resources. Why do you ask?”

She ignored him and pressed on with her questions. “What elsewhere? Is there any place in the borderlands that could handle a massive influx of refugees? In the thousands?”

He sputtered and stumbled out a reply. “Well of course not child. Progress takes time, even with the help of Rysulla’s faithful you know that being one of her Nephilim.”

She paced back and forth, her mind a maelstrom of thought and frustration. “You don’t have to lecture me on my celestial parentage. It’s one of the reasons I go on these missions, but it’s horrible everywhere. The Abicans are monsters. Brinktobania is regularly under siege from monsters and can’t protect their villages. People try to escape slavery in Wrebur and Osgand everday. And they all pour into the borderlands hoping for a better chance but most of them will fail within a few years. And I can’t stand it anymore. It burns at my soul, Thallan. There has to be a better way. I’ll go the other states or the Arch Paladins themselves and I will find a better way!”

Thallan tried to track her with his eyes but couldn’t focus while doing so. So he looked down at his desk and spoke calmly, trying to assuage her anger. “Seraph, you can’t put the fate of every refugee on your shoulder and you can’t protect every one of them out here. I’m sorry my dear, but for now all we can do is save who we can.”

“Don’t try to placate me with niceties, Thallan. There is a better way then just pulling individuals out of the frying pan and telling them to try again in the fire. And if no one else will look for an alternative then I guess it falls to me to do what everyone is too afraid to attempt.”

With that she stormed out the priest’s office, slamming the door and walked out of the mission. That night she promised to herself. 

“There is a better way and I will find it.”


End file.
